Sad Eyes
by Emerald-Leaves
Summary: Iroh muses about Zuko's past and future. Set sometime after the final battle.


**Sad Eyes**

As I sit and watch my nephew, I can't help but be proud of him. Despite everything he's been through in his young life, he's overcome each obstacle with the fierce determination to succeed. Even though he has made many mistakes, he has atoned for them all. I am proud of him and what he's done.

But I cannot help but frown as I watch him as well. He is young and proud. He is a very powerful bender, a cunning and compassionate Fire Lord, a good man…but he is also sad. Only pride keeps his shoulders square, his hands clenched painfully tight behind his back. Even here on dry land, he stands with his legs apart, bracing himself in a strong, sturdy stance, looking like he is supposed to be on a ship instead of in a teahouse. And although the mood of the room is light and all of the other young people are laughing, my nephew stands stoically, a slight frown seemed etched into his features. His fierce golden eyes are sharp, intelligent…but sad. So terribly sad…

I look over at his friends, the young Avatar, the Water Tribe siblings, the charming blind earthbender, the Kyoshi Warrior, and even his childhood friend, Ty Lee. My gaze drifts over to Mai, my nephew's girlfriend, and I notice that the girl looks bored; there was even a hint of a disgusted scowl on her face. I do not like Mai for my nephew. She is a storm cloud above my nephew's head; dragging him down still further into the black pit he seemed to be casting himself into.

Why? Why is he doing this to himself? I do not understand my nephew. I thought I did, I truly thought that I knew his mind better than anyone, but now I am not so sure. Here, at the end of everything, when it is a time to be happy and free, I do not know what he is thinking. He has everything he has ever wanted, and he has gotten it the _right _way this time. But now he seems less pleased with life then he had been when he was still out chasing the Avatar. Why is he like this? What can he be thinking?

I want to go over to him, hug him like the little boy that I still remember. He had always been a sweet boy in his youth. Always curious about the world as a whole, wanting to learn everything he could, always wanting to run and play happily with the turtle-ducks…but that little boy is gone, isn't he? I have not seen signs of that little boy for a long time. That little boy had been cast into fire and burned. That little boy is _dead_.

Is that it? Is that why he was so sad? Is he regretting his past, or is he scared about the future? So many things have been placed upon his young shoulders. There are times I wish I could help him carry it. I think that he and the other children are too young to be troubled with the weight of the world, but here they are, each one powerful and far too mature. But the other children seem to sense this, seem to want to be carefree, to be young. But my nephew does not. Ever since his mother left, he's been more serious. He doesn't laugh anymore, rarely smiles. His eyes are bright, not with youthful hope or happiness, but with calculation and thought.

I wonder at the world today. We have all placed such stress upon our children that I'm concerned for them. Certainly the world is started to heal from a century war, but can its children truly heal? War is for adults, not children, yet we pushed our dearest ones out into the middle of it all and expected them to fight for _us_. I'm not sure if that makes us cowards or just cruel.

I wish I could be the one to suffer and not my nephew. He's been suffering for nearly seven years, ever since his mother left and he was left alone with his father. I should have been there for him, but I am ashamed to say that I wasn't. I fell apart when my own son died, and I did not see that my nephew was slowly drowning under the burden his father was placing upon him. Three years later, when the boy fought his father in a Fire Duel, I was forced to watch him suffer in silence. I can still see the blood on my hands from that day when the boy was lying on the floor, wreathing in agony, cries of pain filling the air, the soft whimpers of suffering cutting into my heart…I should have done something.

Three years at sea had not been easy on the boy either. His father's punishment was severe and the first couple of days after his banishment were hard on the boy. He was torn between suffering and struggling to maintain composure, to lead his ship and his men while his own heart was in turmoil. And even after, finding the Avatar and then all of our adventures since, my nephew struggled at every turn, nothing ever came easy to him. He fought and fought, and nearly lost his life.

Looking back now, I wonder at my nephew's strength. He's always thought of himself as weak, I know this. He's always been insecure, his father telling him he was worthless, and his malicious sister never helped either. His own people didn't care if he ever came back; they wanted him dead. Yet despite all this, he survived, he's thrived. He's taken everything life could possibly throw at him and he's still standing.

But I'm worried. How much more can he take? If something else terrible happened, would he be all right? Would he carry on? His mind is a mysterious place; filled with guilt, confliction, worry, hatred, anger…I hope life is kind to him now, for I am sure that if anything else were to go wrong, it would send him over the edge, and I do not know if I would be able to stand it.

For now, however, I am left to worry about my dear nephew, and help him any way that I can. He is like a son to me. As I watch him in his severe stance, frowning at nothing, I am left to selfishly hope that when he does come crashing down, I will not be around to see it, for I cannot stand to see his eyes so sad…

* * *

**Author's Note: **Because I thought about Avatar today... just a little something for Iroh and Zuko because I love them both so much!


End file.
